


a little fucking candor

by orphan_account



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Aromantic Character, Best Friends, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, Grey-Asexual Character, Neighbors, Queerplatonic Relationships, Trans Female Character, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1721537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(HIATUS UNTIL CHASERS IS COMPLETE) <br/>You, Yuugi Hoshiguma, have finally figured out at the tender age of seventeen that pretending to be something you aren't can really fuck shit up for you in the future. (Or as Suika would say in a drunken haze, "Yuugi, quit being a little shit and listen to yourself for once.") trans!Yuugi, aro/grey-ace!Suika</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. start of summer

**Author's Note:**

> "i played video games in a drunken haze  
> i was seventeen years young  
> hurt my knuckles punching the machines  
> the taste of scotch rich on my tongue
> 
> i am going to make it through this year  
> if it kills me  
> i am going to make it through this year  
> if it kills me"
> 
> -the mountain goats, "this year"

At the beginning of this summer you had sat at the edge of your second-story window sighing and looking out on the circled driveway of your cul-de-sac and the lot right next to you as moving trucks came in one by one. They dropped their loads in huge cardboard boxes labeled "Living Room, Kitchen, Master Bedroom," and a bigger one almost twice the size of the box next to it, on its side scrawled the name "Suika" and small hearts decorating the edges.

Three or so days later, you are probably guessing Suika is going to be your next door neighbor and vaguely wonder about what kind of explosive main event the rest of this summer is going to become (or not.) Swinging your legs off the side of your windowsill, you look quickly at the window straight across from you-- there are already boxes lining the walls, the distinctive frame of a pullout couch bed directly in front of the window.

"Yuugi," your mother calls, and you catch the eye-rolling exasperation in her voice. "Yuugi! Get down here and help your new neighbors with moving!"

You briefly think about jumping down from there, but then rethink it. You're pretty sure you're nowhere near sober enough for this.

* * *

The new neighbor turns out to be a smallish redheaded girl, probably your age, with a dopey toothy smile that could probably make the sun jealous and a constant flush on the apples of her cheeks. You immediately recognize it as that of someone who is just as buzzed as you are, and internally you cheer ( _a drinking buddy! Finally, you have a potential friend!_ ) but externally all you can do is offer one of your dumb crooked smiles back and say, "Hey. Name's Yuugi."

"Suika! Ibuki Suika." She sticks her hand out, with a certain kind of swaying confidence, and you take it. Immediately you're angry because _her hands are so fucking soft, why can't you have soft hands too_ , but you brush it off and shake her hand before turning to your mom.

"Hoshiguma. Yuugi's a bit... weird with introductions, but don't get the wrong impression of him, okay?"

You immediately snap around, your eyes narrowing-- _who is she to talk like that in front of someone we just met?_ \-- and then it hits you square in the chest, the word "him."

The slightest of sighs escapes your lips but you turn back and shrug at Suika. She seems to get it, if only partially. _Moms, huh_ , her shoulders say as she shrugs directly back at you, and you laugh the smallest bit despite the ache in your chest.

This might be the year.

* * *

You pick up the moving box from the bottom corner, and Suika is on the other side, gripping the opposite corner with an unusual strength. The walk up to the door and into the house is sort of wobbly, since she’s so much shorter than you and can’t exactly see where she’s going for the most part, and she stumbles over the first step, cursing under her breath as you drop the box and move over to check on her.

“Ow. Fuck. Okay, yeah, I’m… I’m gonna pick up this corner again. You keep doing what you’re doing,” she says, and her small hands lift her part of the box.

“Wait. Lemme, uh… Since you can’t see too well--”

“You making fun of my height?!”

“Aw, lay off,” you say, playfully. It doesn’t seem to appease her. You make a note of this for later. “No, practically you won’t be able to see if you’re backing up the stairs like that. So I’ll walk backwards and you go forwards, got it?”

“Fine,” she half-pouts, and you almost laugh as you hoist up your side of the box and slowly, gradually make your shuffling way up the wooden stairs. Once you get to the top, it’s just a matter of pushing it towards Suika’s room, which… turns out to be the room that has the window right opposite yours. You could probably stick your hand out your window and touch her hand if it came to that.

“My room’s literally just opposite your room,” you mention, and she sticks her tongue out at you.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Nope,” you admit, and shrug your shoulders. “It does make for a story, though. You could probably stick a plank between those windows and all ya need after that is two dumb teenagers or something.”

That gets a snort of laughter from her, and you mentally applaud yourself.

“Glad you’re not flirting with me, then, ‘cause I don’t even like boys in the first place.”

Your heart does an awful quick-brake maneuver and you stammer to figure out what you’re supposed to say to that.

“Uh, about that--”

And she’s gone, bounding down the stairs just before you even have a chance to finish. By the time you look out the window she’s already waving up at you from the front yard.

“ _Yuugi!_ There’s two more boxes I need your help with!”

You press your index fingers to both your temples and internally commend Suika’s seemingly boundless energy. If she’s as drunk right now as you think she is, you may have competition on the horizon.

* * *

Later on when the three Suika-labeled moving boxes are finally in place in the Suika-labeled room, you are both sprawled out on the floor sorting through books to put on the rickety bookcase ( _in what order? does she like them alphabetized or is she one of those weirdos who does them color-coded?_ ) and she’s also got a low table for her portable record player-- _seriously!_ \-- plus a pinboard with nothing on it, a dresser and a wooden desk. There’s also the pullout couch bed which you’re pretty sure is temporary. You nod over to it, as if asking.

“That? Yeah, that’s… once they get my actual bed we’re probably gonna throw that damn thing out. It’s like, fifty years old.”

“Did they even _have_ pullout couch beds in the fifties though,” you half-question, before finally deciding to dismiss the topic-- but then she just _has_ to, she can’t even _resist_ adding:

“Don’t you mean the sixties?”

“You know what I meant!”

She laughs, and it starts off as a throaty giggle before it catches you off guard and you tilt your head back to the floor and start _hiccupping_ in laughter, and obviously Suika can’t deal with it either because her arm knocks over a pile of alphabetically sorted books and then she just _collapses_ , her entire body shaking with the force of it.

“What the _fuck_ ,” you manage to choke out between failed intakes of breath. “How is that so funny.”

She doesn’t reply, just rolls over from her back onto her face and puts her hands over the back of her head. Her usual half-flushed face has gone full blown crimson red with laughing and you can’t cope with it either, because _why is this so funny_ , and then she turns over, looks you straight in the eye, and says,

“I didn’t need those in alphabetical order anyway.”

You suffer another minute-long bout of throat-shredding laughter before you finally turn to her and groan, “But I worked so hard on them!”

“I do mine color-coded, idiot,” she drawls, as if it was so obvious that she was that kind of weirdo and she's so ashamed of you for not catching on, and then she half-sits up and lazily tries to push them back into a coherent pile. The sun is going down through the blown-open windows, setting your shadows into harsh diagonal lines. Suika takes a deep breath, and is about to say something when your mom’s needling voice echoes from downstairs.

“Yuugi get down here dinner’s ready!”

You sigh. It is probably the longest and most despairing sigh you’ve ever sighed, and you have done some pretty fucking long sighs in your time.

“I gotta go, then, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, Suika?”

She turns her face up to you as you stand up, her hands still on the pile of books.

“I gotta talk to you, later on.”

“There’s a reason our windows are so close together,” she yawns, and waves you off with a languid hand. “Go on, get. I’ll talk to you later tonight.”

“Alright, bye,” you say, gathering your small bag of stuff and waving to her with your free hand as you gallop down the stairs. “Yuugi!” goes your mother’s voice again, and you stretch upwards, cracking your back while you’re at it.

 _This might be the year_ , you repeat to yourself, like a mantra as you come up the doorstep of your house and shut the door behind you, just as the sun goes down.

* * *

A violent knocking sound wakes you from your half-asleep state at approximately 11:45 PM and you roll from your bed, body clumsily hitting the area rug. Dragging your feet, you look at the walls one by one and then remember the house next to you _isn’t_ empty now. After sleepily checking each of your four walls you trudge over to the windowsill, open the shutters, and pull up the window to step through.

Suika is waiting for you, on the other side of the window, her legs dangling off the side. Next to her are two beers, one opened and one-- _oh, is that for you? well, shit_ \-- and she passes the colder one over to you. It’s a bit of a stretch, and you almost drop it, but you crack it against the windowsill and grin at her.

“Hey, don’t thank me. You were the one who wanted to tell me something, right?”

 _Oh, shit._ “Yeah, I think so? I guess so. Lemme finish this first.”

“Don’t drink it all at ooooonce!” Suika flails, and you stifle a giggle. Swinging your legs over the edge, you flex your bare feet below you and take a sip.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Wait, okay, I gotta ask you something first--”

“If it’s about the not liking guys thing?”

Damn. She has one up on you. “I guess? So ya like girls, or…?”

“Yeah, I’m more interested in girls, but I’ve never actually… liked anyone? I dunno, it’s hard to say; I just don’t get crushes or whatever, but if I did, it’d be a girl, definitely.” She shrugs, takes another swig. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. A lot more, actually.” You nod, vaguely.

“Now I get to ask you what you were gonna tell me.”

You clutch the beer bottle, then tip your head back and almost _urgently_ drink the whole thing in one go.

“Whoa,” she says, approvingly.

“Yeah, I was gonna need that. Uh. Can I ask you… not to call me a guy?”

“Oh, sure!”

It catches you off guard how fast she replies, like she didn’t even need time to think about it at all. Like she wasn’t really worried about that sort of stuff or maybe even that she knew the whole time. You almost feel dismissed.

“Wait, so you’re not gonna do the whole ‘but you’re a guy, wait, so do I hafta call you a girl and stuff even though you’re obviously not’ thing on me? That sort of stuff?”

“Of _course_ not!” She seems sad that you’d even suggest it. “No way. Like, it doesn’t matter to me at-- actually, no, it _does_ matter, ‘cause it’s a big deal to you right?”

“Yeah… yeah, it kinda is.”

“So I’m not gonna dismiss it like that, ‘cause it matters, right? But it’s definitely not gonna change my view of you in the future. I’m not that gross.” She finishes her bottle, and then looks at you with the most fucking _candid_ expression, and her lopsided toothy smile is so contagious. “You’re a girl, right?”

“Y… Yeah. Yeah, I am. A girl, I mean.”

It feels so unfamiliar to be actually saying it for once. You’ve never said it to anyone besides your reflection in the mirror, and even that you couldn’t even make it come out of your mouth without fear of someone hearing. But you’re drunk, and Suika is sitting opposite you on a windowsill, and just a few hours earlier you were alphabetizing her books and now you’re spouting off your truth without what seems like any concern for the future. She doesn’t make it into a problem-- no, she makes it easy, and even comfortable to say it, and with her help you think you’ve just broken through the first glass barrier separating you from yourself.

“But. But,” you add, your stomach doing a weird flippy thing when you remember no one else is going to accept this as well as Suika, “no one else knows, so… until I can do it, can ya keep this between us?”

She looks at you as if to say, _you actually think I’d say no to that?_ and in relief you bury your face in your hands and breathe out a very, very long breath that-- _thank God_ \-- is nowhere close to a sigh.

And then she sticks her hand out and says, “shake on it?” and you do, barely reaching over the gap between you, careful not to lose your balance because then all of your hard work would be worth nothing, and that’s when you _know_ that this is going to be a very eventful, very important summer.


	2. second day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively: "Yuugi gets angry, sad, angry again, sad again, and then vaguely (but genuinely) happy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t-slur in this chapter (only once)

Summer finds you rummaging through your garage in the dusty piles of sports equipment and dead insects to find an adequate pair of roller skates, but by the time you actually clear away the cobwebs and scattered kneepads, your gross old flip phone is buzzing in your pocket. You wonder why you still have this, but after maybe five seconds of thinking, you remember that you literally can't afford anything else and your phone plan is virtually nonexistent at this moment. Ever since you moved here you and your mom have been sacrificing nice things for a better place to live; you can barely manage the house expenses, so asking for something pretty and shiny is pretty much out of the question.

Sighing, you kick away a dusty football as you dig into your pocket to retrieve the phone.

* * *

**From: Mom**

**Sent: 1:21PM**

_Remember to go to offseason baseball practice today ok!_

* * *

With an exclamation mark for emphasis and everything. You press your fingers to your temples in a futile attempt to ward off a headache, which is something you've been doing a lot lately.

A loud banging sound echoes from up the stairs and you start, stuffing the phone back in your pocket and freezing in your place. Concentrating, you twiddle your thumbs waiting for another noise, and aren't exactly surprised when the thumping turns out to be footsteps.

"Yuuuuu _uugiiiiiiiii_ ," comes a long, half-familiar voice from upstairs. "Where are you, is your mom homeeeeeeee?"

"Jeez, don't be so loud," you say as you emerge from the decrepit stairwell. "I don't mind ya barging in, I swear, but I've got a headache, so…"

"Awh," Suika groans half-heartedly. "But I brought crackers, and beer. Wait, is your mom home? Shit, did she--"

"Nah, she's not home, and she won't be till probably later at night. Bring it on."

Suika grins, that ear-to-ear smile you've already come to enjoy, and pulls a box of Ritz and two bottles of Asahi from the plastic bag she's holding in her right hand. "Also I need your help with moving stuff, once we're done."

"Su-- wait, was this just a bribe? Did you just bribe me with beer and crackers--"

"I would do _noooothing_ of the sort," she sing-songs. "Except maybe I would. Honestly though, I do need some help with organizing things on my desk… it shouldn't be a big deal."

You groan.

"C'mon, Yuugi. So far we've known each other for two days and I've already given you two beers."

You can't argue with that.

"True. So yeah, I guess I'll help ya out. What time d'ya need me?"

She gives a shrug. "Whenever you're not too busy, I guess. My dad's home but he's shut in his room doing work or whatever. He doesn't care if I'm drunk so you don't have to worry too hard about that."

For a faint second you imagine a world where your mom didn't worry about you drinking 24/7; then you realize it probably just made things worse for Suika, with no support or guidance, and you start feeling pity and empathy take root at the bottom of your stomach.

"Yeah… I think I'll pass on drinking over there today," you finally answer, and your phone vibrates again. You barely even have time to clear your throat before you realize it's not a text vibe, it's a prolonged phone call type, and you wince and take it out, flipping it open to look at the caller ID.

_Well, shit._

"H-Hey, Suika, I hafta take this call."

Oh _God,_ you hate yourself so much right now. Suika makes a quietly despairing face and your heart does an awful constricting thing.

"I'll… come over later?"

After a moment, she nods, but you notice she's taken a glimpse of your phone screen and that, that's probably why she's solemn. Like she understands.

"Hold on," you stammer, and scurry into the kitchen pantry to take the call before another wave of sadness washes over you.

 

...

"Dad?"

……

"No, she's not home right now, uhm…"

……

"How should I know? She leaves way before I wake up."

…

"If I had to guess she'd be at a parent teacher meeting, or at a bar. Either or."

……

"Well, you were the one that taught her how to do that in the first place," you say, frustratedly, and your finger hovers over the End Call button.

……

"And yeah, you taught me the same thing. Also, I gotta go to baseball practice in 15."

…

"Okay. Whatever. Uh, talk to you later. Bye."

…

"I said _bye_."

You mash the end button so hard your thumb hurts. As you walk out of the dark pantry there is a strange lingering silence, so different from the frustrated yelling just moments before. You spin around, and notice that Suika's left already. The plastic bag with the crackers and beer is gone too, which is vaguely disappointing, but you're still expecting that later as payment for moving work.

The house has suddenly become twice as lonely but you're kind of glad she left, because no one deserved to hear that, especially not her.

The burning anger in your ribcage has died down to a smoldering, widespread feeling of self hate, and you sit down on the wood floor and aimlessly scroll through old text messages before finally remembering you have baseball practice to get to, and scampering up the stairs as fast as your thick legs will carry you to get changed.

* * *

You walk into the changing room and let out a breath of relief once you notice that you're alone in there. Coming ten minutes late to off season really does do wonders for your mental health, and you feel somewhat more relaxed and ready for practice as you shut yourself in a bathroom stall to change into your uniform. You take care not to look downwards as you wiggle out of your cargo shorts and pull upwards hard on the off-white baseball pants, staring instead straight into the greenish surface of the stall door. It comes back to you then, when you walk out of the stall all changed and half-clean, that you had a reason to go to the third stall down instead of the larger, handicapped stall; you swing open that door, a heaviness in your heart and you immediately regret it when you read the crude graffiti written in Sharpie on the wall.

**ur mom is a tranny**  

Disgusted, you slam the door as hard as you possibly can (which is pretty _fucking_ hard) and the entire stall setup rocks with the force of your anger. They don't know what it's like. They couldn't possibly understand. Words like that cut you to your core, they make you ashamed to be alive.

You decide, for the good of yourself and the world around you, that you're going to take your anger out on the baseball and not on someone's fragile, crackable head.

* * *

The crack of your wooden bat echoes through the mostly vacant playing field. You feel the vibrations of impact all up your arms and into your chest, and it's vaguely satisfying as the ball soars straight up middle field. There's an enthusiastic, albeit lonely, applause from the pitcher and the two teammates that have made it, and your coach, who cheers.

"Damn right, Hoshiguma! You got some anger in your system or what?"

"Yeah," you holler back, but there's pride in your bones when you stride back to the bench. "Need to let off steam before it gets outta control." At least you're honest. You haven't been too honest with your coach in a really long time, let alone yourself, so you add another chalk tally to your mental brick wall.

"Productive as always. Alright, next batter up, hustle!"

"Uh, Coach?"

"'Sup, Hoshiguma?"

"I gotta talk to you after practice," you say, but your voice is much smaller than usual and your feeling of pride quickly spirals into quiet shame. You hope he doesn't notice, you hope he doesn't notice how you falter halfway through your words.

He doesn't-- at least, not that you can tell. He just nods and lets you sit down on the bench until it's your turn again, and he doesn't say anything else.

Practice goes on, in sweltering summer heat, and by the time you're done the knees of your pants are dirt-stained and your face is caked in dust and sweat and you're satisfied.

* * *

"Hoshiguma?"

Your coach's voice echoes through the mostly empty locker room. It startles you-- for a moment you were so tuckered out you hadn't remembered that you were supposed to talk to him, and you silently curse yourself out. You could have probably left already, been home with Suika's crackers and drinks, not thinking about what you had called him in to talk about. You could have forgotten about what you were thinking when you took your seat back on the bench after hitting the ball out of the field--

Quietly, you pull your duffel bag over your shoulder, and meet him at the entrance to the men's locker room.

"Hey, Coach, don't worry about it," you tell him, trying to hide the near-miss sort of relief in your voice. "I figured it out for now."

"Well, Hoshiguma, that's okay," he grins. "But I want you to tell me if there's something up. You're the captain, y'know? It's stressful, and it wouldn't kill you to let it out sometimes."

"Yeah, yeah," you say, jokingly shrugging, and wave over your shoulder as the door shuts behind you.

You feel like you might have just dodged an arrow. Or a bullet. Either or.

* * *

"Suika?"

"Yuugi! You're back," pipes a joyful, somewhat slurred voice from your kitchen.

"Aw, damn it. What're you doing alone in my kitchen?"

"I had to put away the stuff I brought, or else it was gonna get cold!" she says, shutting the fridge door. A gust of chilled air ghosts out into the room, and you yank the door open again a little harder than you intended and stick your face in.

"Wow," she comments, watching your knitted eyebrows relax and your red face cool down. "You worked hard, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah," you say, almost dismissively. "I'm the captain. I gotta always set a good example."

"Even off season?"

" _Especially_ off season." You nod as Suika passes you the beer from earlier today, all chilled and glistening with condensation. "If I don't work out and keep practicing, the whole team would be a little less motivated to do the same, y'know?"

"Lots of pressure, I bet," Suika says, and cracks her bottle against the granite countertop. "Uh, oh. D'ya mind if I ask what the deal is with your dad?"

\--Well, _that_ was out of nowhere, and your face twitches harshly as you pry open yours and take a sip from the foaming top. "I would tell you, but I'm not even 100% on his deal either."

She leans against the counter, and it vaguely reminds you of Yuyuko, the therapist you used to see when you were younger, who leaned in on the plush arm of her chair when she wanted you to go on with what you were saying. You remember you were never good at finishing sentences, but that never meant you hated her. In reality she was kind, friendly and understanding, and it felt nice to talk with her once in a while when things with your parents were going badly. When you moved, you had to leave Yuyuko's office behind as well as all the other things you had developed attachments to. Another woman you clung to like a mother, lost to the dust of change and time.

"I dunno, I guess it was just that he was a heavy drinker when my mom married him, and while I was growing up he stopped for a while, and we all thought he had just quit altogether. But when I was six I walked into the garage late at night and he was opening the fridge and I told my mom the next morning that Dad was up late, you know, the kid stuff. And she asked me what he was doing and I told her, and then…"

You stop, there. You want to say what comes next, glass shattering and anger and you as a child hiding in the crevice under the stairs, feeling the wood rattle as your father stormed up them and slammed the door hard, and how the image of his silhouette etched against the surreal light of the refrigerator in the dead of night is still engraved in your memory, and how it has edges of senses, like the wafting smell of rusting iron in the workshop and the buzzing of the fridge power in your ears.

But you don't, you don't say any of that, instead you take a long swig from the bottle and sigh as you hear the clank of the glass on the granite counter.

Suika looks at you, quietly, and then her eyes fall to the side.

"Yeah," you finish, like you finish all your presentations for school, like it's just another memorized project you have to rattle off before the bell rings. "Yeah."

"So he hasn't stopped?"

"As far as I know." You sigh. "And he taught my mom to do it too, and-- _of course_ \-- me. So."

"I don't… know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," you reply, and your head falls in resignation onto the counter, covered by your forearms like blocking out light. The long breath out comes from your lungs, from deep in your chest and into the air as a cloud of bad thoughts.

And then Suika's hand is on yours. It's really warm. For a moment you forget you're not alone, and it startles you, but then there's just something so soothing about that kind of reassuring contact, and a smile starts on your face. You haven't had much of that in a long, long time.

The exhale this time is of relief.

"C'mon, Yuugi. We've got some stuff to move, right?"

"Right."

"And beer to drink. And records to play?"

"Right. Actually, that kinda depends on your taste in music."

"AKFG? They're my favorite, so they're kinda the only record I've unpacked..."

"Why not."


	3. a week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bicycles, telescopes, stars, bridges, and fathers disappearing.

When the sky goes deep blue with twilight, the kind of fluorescent feeling like bright light behind a cerulean painted glass pane, you briefly consider trying to sleep tonight. It's only a passing thought, really, because you have a date at exactly 8:45 tonight, although you're not getting dressed up at all ( _do pajamas count? You're gonna make them count--_ ) and the only food you'll really be ordering is crackers, probably. Crackers and maybe dip, if you're lucky.

But when Suika stretches her hand out to fling open the loose window and flashes you that dopily happy grin, you feel pretty damn lucky already, and you crack your window in a taunt, half-ignoring her.

"Hey, Yuugi!"

"Huh, sorry, I can't hear ya over the sound of-- holy shit did you bring me tortilla chips? You did, didn't you? Oh my _God_ ," you almost scream and push the window up so hard you hope it didn't break. "You're an angel, Suika! Glad ta see you out here on this beautiful night--"

"Stop being a dork and take this," she says, scoffing playfully, and hands you the bag of Tostitos and a cold one. You thank her with an enthusiastic nod, and pry the cap off with your fingers (how you learned to do that, you don't know) and Suika giggles, swinging her feet over the edge, watching them dangle from two stories up.

"So you have to tell me which track it was that I liked so much," you say, taking a long sip. Alcohol seeps into your system, warming you up from the inside out. "And don't tell me 'all of them' 'cause I know you know which one I'm talkin' about."

"Umm, was it the third track?"

"Yeah, the third track, and then it went into the fourth, right?"

"Yeah! I know what you're talking about! Umm, let's see if I can remember, I'm way too lazy to, y'know, just get up and get it from the other side of my room…"

"Just go get it, dumbass," you say, reaching over the gap to flick her on the forehead.

"Ow! Yuugi!"

But she slides off the windowsill anyway, and trudges over to her record shelf. Her _record shelf._ You still cannot _believe_ she has a record shelf. And a record _player_  too. Who on Earth is Suika Ibuki really, and why are you friends with such an insufferable _hipster_?

She finally pulls the AKFG record off the shelf and ends up toppling over five others, and you double over with laughter.

"Hey! That's not funny! Okay, _maybe_ it is, but still!"

"Ya know what? I got an idea. Stay there for a sec and I'll get back to you on the song thing," you call as you slide off your windowsill and parade down the rickety staircase to the crevice below it that led to the basement, where you hid when your dad would get angry and where you wrote songs and diaries on old half-broken two-by-fours. Two-by-fours! Right, that was it. You basically leap down the basement stairs, landing on your hands and feet and kicking up clouds of dust.

You cough.

The place is nothing more than a glorified storage closet, where you keep the old furniture that didn't fit into your new house when you downsized. Stacked chairs and broken-down dressers (you're pretty sure they were family heirlooms at one point) and when you squeeze in between two of the dusty, worn chaise lounges, you see the old white-painted vanity, just as it was when you left it. The vanity where one day after a particularly bad school day, you looked at yourself in the mirror and saw yourself, truly, for the first time-- a little girl.

You blink, turning away, and look in the corner for any remaining wooden planks. Rubbing the dust out of your eyes, coughing into the crook of your elbow, you notice there's nothing there but long, inch-wide planks, basically huge splinters left over from cutting wood.

 _Well, there goes another perfectly last-second plan,_ you think, before bounding up both sets of stairs to report back to Suika.

"What were you doing down there?"

"I had an idea. But it didn't quite pan out. Hey," you say, your mind lighting up again, "why don't we… go on a field trip."

"Whaa? What're you talking about?"

"Uhh… headlamp," you count off, out loud on your fingers, "bike. Bike and headlamp and-- Suika! I got it!"

Her face seems to get more mystified every time you speak.

"Meet me downstairs in my garage! I know where we're going!"

 

* * *

 

"Okay Yuugi you better tell me what we're doing before I even get on this bike."

"So," you say, and put your hands on the handlebars for Emphasis. "I was thinkin' about getting a wooden plank or something to put between our windows at night so we can keep doin' this thing, but when I went to the basement to find one, there weren't any left down there. So you know what we should do?"

"Wha?"

"Bike ride. Down to the dump thing. We can find a plank there."

"Ew. But also, cool." Suika makes an exaggerated ew face, but her silly smile doesn't let her fake disgust. "Um, but it's kinda dark out…"

"I have two headlamps… here, they're in this li'l pull-out storage thing." You reach into the wireframe baskets, decorated with stickers, where you used to keep your skating pads and baseballs. After rummaging a little, you pull out two dust-covered headlamps on elastic straps. You test both of them, and the light that falls against the garage wall is good enough.

"Sick. Wait, but, am I gonna ride on the handlebars?"

"If you wanna. Or you could squeeze in on the back."

Suika claps her hands. "Handlebars it is! Let's go let's go let's _go_ hustle Yuugi _hustle!_ "

You flick up the kickstand and push out of the garage on one foot. Suika hops up onto the cruiser handlebars; she's so small you don't even worry about her fitting up there.

"Drive safe!"

"I only had two sips. I'm _fine_ , Suika."

You push off your right foot and fly down the driveway and into the cul-de-sac loop, the wind in your too-short hair and nothing to light your way except dim streetlights, Suika's flickering headlamp, and the quickly approaching stars.

 

* * *

 

Suika's voice is wobbly and comes in weird, cut-off wavelengths as she talks. Probably because of the bumpy pavement beneath the wheels of the bike, but that doesn't take away from how cute it is, like talking into a running fan.

"What ti-i-ime is i-i-it?"

"Uhh, I can't look at my watch right now unless you've got a death wish."

"Heheh-ehehe-he. Just curious."

Sweat drips down the gap between your shoulder blades. Even at night the humidity is overwhelming, and your shirt clings to your form. "Ya know what I think?"

"Wha-a-a?"

"That song. Reminded me of goin' on a road trip. I guess this is the next best thing."

"Oh, I'll ta-a-ake you on a ro-o-oad trip someda-a-ay." Suika giggles, almost hiccuping.

"I like the sound of that. When?"

"In two-o-o we-e-eks."

She's so decisive when she says it, and she looks up into the right corner of the horizon, as if promising to some guardian star.

"You sure?"

"Po-o-o-ositive."

You bank a hard right, and when Suika clings to the handlebars in fear, you wrap your hands over hers and pedal, slowing down, into the dirt parking lot.

 

* * *

 

The clanking of scrap metal echoes through the empty lot as you kick over sheets of old rusted iron. Suika follows you, hiding her hands behind her back, hopping from broken television to ripped leather car seat.

"Yuugi?"

"Hmm?"

"When are you gonna find it?"

You sigh. "Soon."

She kicks a small can impatiently. There's a rustling, a silence, and then Suika turns back around on herself, her eyes wide in excitement. "I found something really cool! What is that?"

You take a look at it. It's an old, dented tube of some sort, bronze or brass in nature. You poke around with the toe of your sneakers and uncover the rest of it-- an antique telescope, its metal surface engraved with flower and ribbon patterns. The lens is scraped and battered, but unbroken, and you hoist it out of the rubble and marvel at it for a while.

A reverent quiet expands between the two of you. Suika rocks back and forth on her heels, the wide smile splitting her face.

"Can we take this too?" Suika asks, and her voice is high and breathy.

"Yeah, sure," you say. "But you gotta hold it on the ride back."

She doesn't say anything, but makes an ecstatic little noise of laughter in the back of her throat, and grips the tapered end of the telescope. You can't help smiling, and when you finally unearth what you were looking for-- a hardwood plank, thick and long enough to fit between the windows of your bedrooms-- you tap her on the back, heave the plank over your right shoulder, and let Suika scrabble up onto the handlebars before you kick in the stand and force the pedals forward.

Above you the last remainders of blue in the sky have dissipated, and the stars are out, bright pinpoints of faraway nuclear light. When you're going fast enough to feel the wind harsh and sharp against your face, you look upwards, to Suika balanced on the handlebars, clutching the brass telescope close to her chest as if someone could steal it away. Her knuckles have gone white, on both your handlebars and the telescope, and you stay quiet, you know this is something you probably don't see every day. Her long, tied-up red hair is swept over her shoulder as she looks up, and up, and up, as if her gaze will never stop, as if looking into eternity with her human eyes, and you suddenly feel jealous. What is she seeing up there, that you are missing?

You catch a glimpse of her face when you peek out from her right side. She's focused on the stars, you can see that, but more than just that-- she looks like she's at home.

 

* * *

 

When you get off the bike and push it into the garage, Suika clings to the telescope and wastes no time in running upstairs to her room. You fasten the bike to the rack and switch the plank from your right to your left shoulder (it was starting to hurt, anyway) and follow, up your own staircase, into your own room.

She is waiting for you, and she opens the window, and since the lights are halfway lit in your room you can see her eyes are a bit red around the edges.

You throw open your window so quickly you're still worried about breaking it, and then hoist the end of the plank to the windowsill.

"When it gets over there, grab the end and pull, got it?"

"Yep!"

The plank slides, leaving marks on the white-painted sill, and Suika grabs it from the other end and sets it in place with another pull. You get up from the floor and swing your legs over into the gap, and scoot onto it, testing the weight. The wood is so hard and dense it doesn't even creak under you, so you beckon Suika into the middle as well.

"It worked!"

"Yeah. It worked."

"Beer's warm, though."

"Don't need any." She slumps over onto your shoulder. Her hair tickles your cheek, and you give a startled laugh.

"Sorry, my shoulders aren't exactly pillows. Are… you okay?"

She nods, against the crevice of your neck. "'M good."

"Mind if I ask about the telescope?"

She shakes her head. She's pretty determined to give you nonverbal answers right now, you think.

"I'm gonna ask about the telescope." You state, nonchalantly, and she finally picks her chin up from your shoulder and talks.

"Umm, well… I always liked the stars." Suika yawns, half-stretches, and then falls into complacence with her chin in her hands. "My dad, he used to always tell me about them, and he'd point out constellations and stuff. He had a telescope, but it was fancy looking and stuff, like all high-tech instead of pretty and antique like this one. I always wanted a pretty one for myself."

And then her voice wavers, the slightest bit. "He used to say," and then imitates a lower voice, "Suika, when you are lonely, you will always have the stars to talk to. And I believed him. And when he stopped talking to me, I kept talking to the stars. 'Cause they felt like home when nothing else did. So."

You keep quiet. As expected, she keeps talking.

"And I didn't see the shapes he saw. He saw a lion, or a hunter's belt, and I saw letters, or hawks. He told me it was okay, that we all see different things in the stars. But as I grew up, I learned to see what he did and then I thought to myself, now instead of a lion or a hunter's belt, all I see is my dad disappearing. And that was when I figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"…I still don't know. It made more sense to me at the time." She shrugs. "But I guess the gist of it was, he was preparing me to understand it… but I realized I was just really, really alone."

"Like he knew he would probably do that to you." You feel a pang of sadness hit you in the gut. "So he taught you to cope through something else."

"He was always afraid of hurting people, and so he pushed them away. It's a self fulfilling prophecy. I do it too," she admits, and lets out a sigh that could rival yours. "Listen, Yuugi. You're my friend. If I do anything stupid, if I hurt you somehow, you gotta tell me. I need to let myself open up. I need to let others in, instead of just… just being scared I can't and then ending up fucking things up because I didn't think I could and just--"

"Hey," you whisper, and she puts her head back on your shoulder, and buries her forehead into the crook of your neck. "Hey. You're going to be okay. You are going to be okay."

She says something incoherent, muffled and tearful in your shirt, and you don't need to pretend it was anything important.

"I got you. Look. Look _up,_ okay?"

Suika lifts her head, tentatively.

"You got the stars, yeah, but you also got me. I'm listening." You pull her in, ruffle her hair. "I'm always listening."

"Really?"

"Really. D'ya think I'd lie to you?"

"I guess not..."

"Good," you say, and there's a tenderness growing in your chest, wrapping its roots around your ribcage. Where there used to be thorns, between your bones, in the joints of your vertebrae, you can feel flowers. "Good."

_Good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the songs in question are 旅立つ君へ (tabidatsu kimi e) and ネオテニー (neoteny) by ASIAN KUNG-FU GENERATION. you should probably listen to them if you haven't already, they influence this work's tone a lot.


	4. adventure map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuugi has a headache, and Suika comes with water, Advil, and a horde of amazing ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow thanks to those who have waited for the next chapter; japan stole my life for a couple of weeks and then my four-year-old computer broke down for the final time. thankfully i have a brand new laptop (which came with a college discount) and the first thing i did was: write chapter four! 
> 
> old laptop-chan, you will be missed. 2010-2014
> 
> thanks for sticking around, readers!

This morning is rain, and you, Yuugi Hoshiguma, have an awful fucking migraine.

You roll over in the twin bed, make a pained sound like a dying rhinoceros, slam your alarm clock with a heavy hand-- and realize it hadn’t been going off after all. As if taunting you, the military-style beep blares through your room, drilling through your right temple and straight out the other. Flailing helplessly, you flap your hand endlessly against the stupid thing, before pushing it off the table and promptly following it onto the floor.

“Augh-- what the--“

“Yuugi! Everything okay?” comes your mom’s concerned voice from the bottom of the staircase. You sigh, rolling onto your other side on the wooden floor, and gently press down on the ALARM OFF button, burying your face into your arm as you realize you don’t have the energy to get back into your bed. Thankfully you’ve pulled the duvet down with you, and you can just as easily wrap yourself in it like a burrito to cushion your bones from the floor and keep warm. Plus if you pull it far enough over your head you might be able to block out the light filtering through your window.

You mumble a “yeah, fine” to your mom’s inquiry before you wriggle further down, into the warm darkness of your comforter. You’re not even sure where this headache came from; you didn’t drink much at all last night with Suika, and you took your meds just fine, so... nothing out of the ordinary, right? Not much at all, you think, and scribble violently all over your stupid mental checklist. The sound of the rain, usually soothing and friendly to your sleeping habits, feels like loud TV static in your head, like when you accidentally change the input channel instead of just changing whatever dumb reality TV show you’re watching.

You start to miss Suika. Your phone is all the way across the room (well, not really, but it’s on your bedside table which is too fucking far right now) and it’s not like you’d be able to look at a screen for more than five seconds anyway. You give up on any plans for hanging out today, which is funny because just as you curl back up you hear a set of giddy footsteps up your rickety wooden staircase and a small, excited voice.

“Yoo-hoo! Yuugi! Are you in here?”

Speak of the devil. You can’t even bring yourself to make a noise.

“She’s... not in her bed? Oh,” Suika says to herself, and you feel a minor thrill in your chest when you hear _she._ Even if it’s Suika, who already knows, who doesn’t really have an excuse to mess it up on purpose, it’s still a new and exciting feeling. “Oi, Yuugi! You in that little burrito thing?”

“Mmmhhh,” you manage to croak, before Suika sits on you. “Ow-- ow-- _Suika!_ Get _off_ \--"

“Aww, dammit.” Suika sighs, melodramatically, and gently pulls back the corner of the duvet. “Yuugi burrito!”

“‘M not a burrito,” you say flatly, and Suika curls up next to you. “I’m a burrito... with a migraine.”

“Still a burrito.”

You groan.

“But, is there anything I can do? ‘Cause I don’t want you being achy.”

“It’s not like we’re doing anything in particular...”

“Yes we are,” Suika chirps, and bounces on you. “We’re going on a road trip!”

_What?_

“What...?” Your voice finally echoes your thoughts.

“Yeah! Road trip! So you gotta feel better quick. I can bring you some Advil and a cold cloth for your head?”

“Wait,” you interrupt her. “I thought you said two weeks. I didn’t even think you were _serious_!”

“I was serious,” Suika pouts. “And I just felt like doing it today, since stuff is going on at home and I’m--“ She stops. You want to ask her, but something’s stopping you, and it’s not your migraine. “--Anyway, I wanted to do it, because it’s gonna be important for you!”

You groan, again, twice as loud. You really want to go, but your stupid head-- and you can’t even get Suika out of her situation at the moment-- and god, what if it gets worse here too-- Suika runs down the stairs, and you press your face again into the comforter and breathe, in and out, trying to keep your concentration on your breath, the air rushing into and flowing from your lungs. Rhythmically, hypnotizingly. An attempt to forget.

 

* * *

 

 

She wakes you up with a cool blanket on your forehead and a glass of water, pushing an Excedrin into your half-open hand.

“Hey, Yuugi. We can go tomorrow, if you want.”

“Mmn?”

You roll over, poke your head out of the duvet. She slides the glass over to you, and you gratefully pick it up and knock down the Excedrin, pressing the cloth to your head in relief.

“Jeez, you didn’t hafta do this. Thanks, Suika."

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I couldn’t just leave you like this, you know?”

“True, but...” You wonder if she knew where the med cabinet in your house was, if she had searched for a while, messed up some of the drawers. Or if she went back through her sliding screen door and tiptoed through the hall to get some of her own. Does she even need it, does she have headaches like you? Did she risk getting caught by her father or whoever is making it difficult to stay in the house, while she was trying to help you in any way she could? You press the cloth harder into your forehead, wiping the summer sweat from your temples, and try not to think about it.

Before you can forget, though, you hear Suika’s voice, quieter than usual, in that tone she uses when she’s not sure if she’ll ever be okay. “Um, Yuugi?”

“What’s up,” you mumble, turning over.

“Can I... spend the night over here? If that’s okay. I just can’t go... back for now...” Her voice chokes up, and you wiggle out from your burrito and pet her hair.

“Yeah, totally. You can stay for a while. As long as you want. Until it blows over.”

“Seriously? But... what about your mom? And doesn’t she still..."

You hear her trail off, but your mind fills in the gaps. _Doesn’t she still think you’re a boy? Doesn’t she still think that any girl you meet could potentially be an unhealthy hookup? Doesn’t she still say ‘boys will be boys’ and dance around the subject of even having female friends?_

“Yeah, she still. But I’ll figure it out,” you assure her. Now your upper body is out of the burrito and Suika is leaning on it, hiding her face in her hair. “And besides, I’m sure her of all people would... kind of get it.” You think back, to hiding in the pantry answering the phone to your father’s drunken voice. To hating yourself and having to run and hide, because Suika didn’t need to hear how shitty of a father you had, she didn’t need to know. It would just make things worse, for her.

Suika makes a tiny noise of affirmation. You finally unfold the duvet, and lay it out straight on the floor, where she flops over and collapses, her arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. She takes a deep breath in, then out, and the light from the window that illuminates every dust particle reveals the current of air, little white floaties borne upward on a geyser of breath. It’s soothing, like a lava lamp, and suddenly the light doesn’t hurt your head as much.

You thank whatever god or spirit is listening for it. You don’t need a miracle, nothing all at once. No sparkling transformation, no sudden breasts and hips. You don’t even need acceptance in bulk, or a mass pronoun switch. All you need is the small things, the things that make your life a little easier to lead, your skin the slightest bit bearable to live in. For now, that’s enough.

 

* * *

 

 

When you wake up Suika has claimed your bed, and is currently on her stomach writing in a notebook of some sort, her face contorting with thought as she scribbles, erases, scribbles, erases, and the shavings of the rubber eraser are falling all over your sheets. You scramble up immediately, getting to your knees and brushing them off the corner of the mattress.

“Hey, watch out for those, ‘kay?” you manage to sputter before you sit on the side of the bed and take a peek at what is taking so much effort. It looks like... a roadmap? Directions? A list of destinations? “Wait, what’s this thing?”

“Oh, Yuugi! Uh, um, I was hoping you didn’t see it before it was finished, but it’s pretty much done except for directions, so... plans for the road trip!” Her smile is contagious-- you’ve only just woken up and it’s already a sunbeam, even though dusk has just come outside the windows. “I thought about what we might want to do, and how long it could be, since I have some money saved up, and then I realized.”

You’re looking at the sheet.

“I realized that I wanted this road trip to be for you; a huge adventure in buying clothes that you like, and going to places where we can relax and you don’t have to worry about being mistaken for something you aren’t, and accepting yourself as the super awesome girl you are! ‘Cause, Yuugi, I know I’m not living your experience, but I wanna help in any way I can.” She takes a breath. “Because you deserve to be happy and comfortable, and you’re in a situation where it’s kinda hard to get access to things that help with that. So I’m gonna help. We’re gonna go on a fucking awesome adventure and stuff. Does that, uh,” and then she pauses, reading the stunned look on your face, “sound good with you?”

Your face breaks into a huge, unabashed smile, and you fling your arms around Suika, your heart swelling up like a balloon. “Yes, _fuck_ yes, that sounds-- so cool--“ and Suika starts giggling, and her laughter is the most contagious affliction you’ve ever been under and it’s also the best disease. You stop breathing and start laughing, the breaks between fitful giggling becoming nothing more than wheezes. She doesn’t stop even when your arm is crushing hers and not even when you fall onto the floor and drag her with you, ending up in a pile of limbs and blankets. The sketchbook drops from the edge of the mattress and hits Suika square on the head when she finally decides to sit on her heels and sober up a little, and it reduces you again into a wheezing mass of giggles, collapsed on each other with a notebook draped over Suika’s head like a hat.

 

* * *

 

 

You don’t remember what laughter was like, really; you remember when you were five your mother made you a papier-mache horn like a unicorn, because, she said, _you’re a little oni, a tiny devil_ , with all your incessant pranking and temper tantrums, and you fell on the floor and laughed and laughed when she adjusted the horn on your forehead with the elastic. You paraded across the floors of the house, a cape tied around your neck, your oni horn poking anyone who dared to come near, giggling while you recited the old poem: _fee, fi, fo, fum..._

That was the last time you remembered ever laughing like this, at least, until Suika came along. You feel five again, a blanket-cape over your shoulders, breaking the vases of your tired and troubled past and watching the reflections of the shattered glass cast like celebratory confetti on your face. You feel your life come slightly into focus, and although you can’t quite read the words yet, you can make out some from the shapes, the outlines of the phrases in your blurry vision: maybe, just maybe, if not a happy ending, then a happy middle, a happy now.

 

 


	5. press start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they start the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys sorry this chapter is so short; i've been working on another project but fear not, this fic will definitely be finished, i promise! while you're at it, go check out [chasers of the end](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2064975/chapters/4488723); it's gonna be just as big!
> 
> also worldbuilding how do: gensokyo in this universe is set in aomori prefecture, near the very top of the main island. to give you context of their road trip, they're going all the way down to kochi, which is a prefecture/city on the coast of shikoku. shikoku is a separate island, wayyyyy down south. you cross a bridge to get there. driving time there is about 16 hours.

The night before you and Suika set off on your road trip, you can barely sleep at all. She's falling off your bed, her right hand limply hanging over the edge of your mattress. You're curled up as small as you can get, even though you're pretty sure if Suika slept like a starfish you'd still have enough room in your twin bed to sleep on your back. A couple times during the night you wake up to the sound of her snoring and sometimes mumbling incoherently; you poke her cheek until she sniffles and opens her eyes, then her head falls back to the side and she's quiet again, if only for a little while.

Sharing a bed with her is comforting, but it's also pretty hard to get a good night's sleep with someone as excitable and whimsical as she is. You suggested sleeping on the floor so she could take the bed, but she demanded that you have the bed, and curled up with a duvet next to your bookcase. At approximately 1 AM, you woke up from a light floaty dream to find her collapsed over your bed, head on your chest, limbs tangled in ways you didn't think was possible. When you finally straightened her out, she poked your nose and told you she liked it better up here, and you complied.

The sun starts to come up just when Suika stirs, and the bright full moon gradually turns to the quiet orange glow of a new day. You yawn, languidly rolling over, and the back of your hand falls on her face. Immediately Suika sits up, an excited look on her face, as you groan and roll directly onto the floor.

"Yuugi! Get _up_ \-- oh," she says once she sees you collapsed on your throw rug. "Did that hurt?"

"Whaddaya think," you pout, standing up gradually as all the blood rushes from your head. "Jesus, Suika, what time is it even?"

"Um, like 6:30? But we have to pack, we fell asleep last night before we could do that..."

"And whose fault is that?" you tease, poking her forehead. "Also, I don't know what to pack."

"I didn't think of that either," Suika admits, with a noncommittal shrug. You begin to wonder how she even managed to move here in the first place.

"Okay well, maybe we should start with clothes." You stretch up, then start rummaging through your drawers to find a suitable collection of T-shirts and shorts. "Wait, how long are we gonna be out? How much should I pack?"

Suika looks at you like she's going to have a succinct and helpful answer. You raise your eyebrows in surprise-- and then your expectations are completely shattered when she cheerfully pipes, "I have no idea!"

"Are you even _serious_?"

"I'm entirely serious! I mean, I have a roadmap and a plan but who knows what's gonna happen, right? Plus I dunno how long it'll take us to go anywhere, and like, where we stay and stuff..."

You pull the sketchbook from the bedside table and study the chart. "Okay, so if we drive from Lesser Gensokyo to, uhh, Gensokyo City, and then from there to Aomori and-- wait, are we r _eally_ going to Kochi? Please tell me we're not going to Kochi, that's like three days round trip--"

"We're going to Kochi!"

"God dammit, Suika," you grin, punching her lightly in the shoulder. "Where are we gonna stop on the way?"

"I found some kinda small motels on the road, if we can drive like 10 hours a day we can stop by and sleep and be back in like... four days?" Suika shrugs. "So take enough clothes to last for four days or maybe more, although we'll go shopping while we're there."

"Oh, right," you remember, and huff in laughter. "D'ya need me to pitch in for shopping or staying, I have a solid 10,000 yen from my summer jobs..."

"I mean it'd be kinda nice, but I have enough unless emergencies or you find some really expensive clothes or something that you can't leave without, so maybe it's a good idea," Suika admits. "Okay, packing... packing. Camera, chargers, clothes..."

You watch Suika bustle around the room, rifling through drawers and closet space, and soon she has a stack of books, maps and electronics, all spread on your small rug in a messy arrangement of colors and pages. You bring your suitcase over, stuff your roughly folded clothes into the bottom, and Suika spins as she drops probably five thousand yen worth of toiletries into it.

"We don't need all of this," you start to say, but you see it then, the excited look on Suika's face as she turns to you and her eyes sparkle, so bright that you lose your composure. "Okay, well, they smell good and stuff, but..."

And she's already flouncing off towards the kitchen, feet light and nightshirt billowing out behind her, as you watch her go. You think about it, and you realize that you're probably not the only one that feels this way; her lopsided, toothy smile has just grown wider and wider since you met her. You giggle, to yourself, and press the clothes further down into the bag.

 

* * *

 

 

When you finally grab the keys to go, you leave a note on the fridge door, just in case your mom starts worrying.

 

> _Hey Mom,_
> 
> _I'm going out with Suika on an adventure. We'll be down south for a little while, but it shouldn't be more than four days. If you need anything, call me._
> 
> _Love, Yuugi._

 

Satisfied, you pin the note to the fridge with one of your magnets. And then you pause, and scribble an afterthought on the bottom of the Post-it:

 

> _P.S. If Kasen calls, tell her I want to catch up._

 

With this, you drop the pen straight onto the wooden floor, and hurry towards the front entrance, where Suika has the bag loaded in the back of your car. She's grinning, holding two grocery bags, and the early-morning sun is finally over the trees that surround your cul-de-sac as she lifts her arm to you-- realizing two seconds too late that she has her hands full, she picks up her foot and kicks it around in an attempt to wave. You stifle a laugh, run towards her, drop the case of beer in the back, and swing around to the drivers seat.

"You can drive, right?"

"Yeah, just got my license, but whatever," she shrugs, in her nonchalant Suika way, and closes the passenger door as she looks at you. Directly, and the sun behind her illuminates her red-orange hair as she hands you the keys. Her hands grasp yours for a couple of seconds, and then she lets go, her firm grip still lingering on your fingers.

"We ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," you grin, and turn the key in the ignition.


End file.
